Baby, It's Cold Outside
by Oswin Cadwin
Summary: The year is 1945. Hazel Levesque is a sixteen-year-old girl, working for star entertainer Piper McLean. Frank Zhang is a seventeen-year-old man, new to America-New York, specifically-and is trying to find his way of life in this bustling city with his grandmother. When they meet onstage, and with Hazel's strict mother against them, what will happen? Love...or disaster? (OFF hiatus)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I wrote this way back in 2016, tried to revamp it in 2017, and I'm back for 2018! However, I am rewriting the chapters I put up, because middle-school me was way worse at writing than high-school me. Note: I changed the starting date from Dec. 5 to Dec. 18, so the end of the story could be Christmas without skipping dates around** **.**

 _December 18, 1945_

Hazel Levesque bustled around the busy dressing room grabbing this feather scarf, that mink coat, those diamond earrings...she huffed quietly to herself, trying to exhale the stress that was building on her.

Hazel was working for one of the most talented, beautiful entertainers in the world! Well, in New York. Piper McLean! She currently was working at a restaurant as a singer, and the people loved her. Mainly the men, shouting out, professing their love to the beautiful woman in the shimmery, silvery-gold dress.

"Really now, it's like they're drunk!" exclaimed Piper, strutting over to Hazel. Hazel forced a laugh. Of course they were drunk. Piper frowned. "I can get ready myself, Hazel...I really don't see why they've made you do this job. Why aren't you home with your family, and this close to the holidays? Hold on, I need to get my pearls…" She reached up to a shelf, where boxes of jewelry sat in waiting to adorn such a beautiful woman.

Hazel opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment, a blond-haired man burst in.

"Jason!" Piper yelped, whipping around. "I'm in my dressing gown!"

Piper's 'dressing gown' was four feet of the best pink silk, stitched with lavender-colored flowers, tied tightly at the waist with more silk. It look like a dress! Hazel almost laughed, but didn't. Her job description: Get the lady what she wants, when she wants it, and only laugh when she does. Hazel folded the yellow satin dress she was holding and pulled out the long, shiny, glittery red ensemble Piper needed for the show. She thought the diamond looked better with it, but pearl it would be…

"Jason, shoo, I need to put my hair up! Hazel, can you please grab me that silver hairband? Thank you so much. Really, please get home-I can pay you right now, if you'd like-hold on, I gotta go!" She rushed off to the side door, attached to the stage.

Piper glided onto the stage in front of the people in the lounge. Hazel, as always, had to watch from her place in the dressing room. She looked at the people outside. A blonde woman, with her black-haired husband, drinking small glasses of wine in petite sips. A toddler that must have been theirs sat between them, wearing a silken green dress that looked far too expensive for her to be spilling apple juice on. The blonde man, Jason. A black-haired woman...a Spanish server, who was setting fire to a Christmas Cake. Hazel wished she could have a Christmas Cake, but her mother forbade it. _It uses brandy, and the fire could burn down the house!_

Hazel knew well that the brandy would simply burn away, but never mind that. They couldn't afford a Christmas Cake. Golly, they could hardly get a good roast chicken for Christmas Dinner! Thankfully, Hazel had this job this year, so a roast chicken and a lovely strawberry loaf might be in order...

Suddenly, someone tugged on her arm.

"Hazel, love, I'm awfully thirsty. I can't sing no longer-would you do me a favor? Please get up there and sing for the crowd. I've heard your voice before. You're brilliant." Piper beamed.

"Well-I-I mean, I suppose so, but-"

"Thanks, dahlin'. Go on! Oh, wait!"

In a second, Hazel was in the yellow silk dress she had been folding earlier, her cinnamon hair soft a brushed behind her ears, a diamond flower clipped just above the top of her left ear.

" _A colored girl? A servant girl?_ " whispered the crowd. Hazel blushed crimson.

Piper stood from the back of her room, face in a pretty picture of anger. "You're callin' her colored, like it's a bad thing? And what do ya say about me when I got my back turned, huh?" She glared at the surrounding men and women harshly, daring any of them to say anything. It _was_ ironic-Ms. McLean was part Cherokee, after all, and no one mentioned that.

Hazel took a deep breath. "I really can't stay...must be on my way...this evening has been, so very nice..." she was singing one she'd heard Piper sing once, that she knew was new; exciting. Suddenly, the crowd was listening.

"Get another up with 'er! It's a duet!"

"This one! He's mumbling it under his breath,"

A moment later, a tall, asian man was up there with her, looking shocked. Hazel smiled and handed him a microphone. This felt normal, relaxed, even.

"My momma will start to worry, my papa will be there at the door..."

" _Beautiful, what's your hurry...listen to the fireplace roar..."_

"So, really, I'd better hurry...maybe just a, half a drink more?"

" _Put on some records while I pour,"_

Hazel loved it. She loved the crowd, the music, and the fact that the man up with her was quite handsome. Very sophisticated-looking.

"I really can't stay, oh, but baby, it's cold...out...side!"

It was over all too soon. Hazel was whisked off the stage, and Piper was back on, teasing and singing.

"So, fellas, did you see that man up here? Mista Zhang, I think? Why, Hazel was a little mouse next to 'im!"

The crowd roared with laughter at her jokes. Then she was singing, and calm was restored once more.

"."

The show was over for the night. Hazel was back in her normal dress: Light green, buttoned top, flowing skirt. Presentable, but not fancy. More her style, really.

"'Eh, Miss Hazel?" It was the Asian man, Mister Zhang. "Say, do-do you want to join me for dinner? My grandmother will be there, and she is always excited by company."

He spoke in slow, concentrated English. He must have been newer to New York.

"Golly, I-Um, I better ask my Momma. She's in charge of that, and I can't be seein' no men without 'er permission. Maybe tomorrow evenin', Mista Zhang?"

He smiled, "That would be great. Oh, and call me Frank. Good evening, Miss Hazel!" He left happily, leaving Hazel to pack her things and head home.

"."

"Momma, Momma! I got news!"

Maria Levesque turned from the pot she was stirring. "Slow down, Hazel, and wipe your feet before you go rampaging through the house! Your sister is already asleep, and I'm just reheating your supper."

"Oh, sorry, Momma," apologized Hazel, quieting her voice to a whisper. "But, Momma, a man asked me to dinner tomorrow evening! And you don' have to worry, 'cause his grandmother will be there. They're from _Asia_ , Momma."

Hazel's mother looked thoughtfully at the pot, like the bubbling contents could give her the secret of life.. "I suppose you could go. But you musn't stay too late, and you must look presentable, and you musn't speak as you usually do. Speak-"

"In a nice, presentable, soothing lady's voice, _mother_. I know, I've been to dinner before! Remember, when we went to Madame McLean's house to get my job? And she don' mind my speakin', and I think she's a very nice lady, Momma." Hazel's mother was always suspicious that entertainers were cruel.

"Fine, Hazel. You may go. Now, eat your supper, and hop right over to bed. Oh, and be careful. The floorboard by you and Bianca's door is creaking again!"

"Oh, thank you, thank you, Momma! I promise, you won't regret your decision! Mister Zhang is the nicest person I've met."

Hazel had decided not to tell her mother of her little singing duet. Her mother didn't much approve of her 'prancing around a stage of sin,' as she put it. But oh, it was all so exciting, and she was certain she wouldn't sleep that night.

 **A/N: Opinions on this revamped version? I've tried to make Piper a** _ **lot**_ **more in-character than she was in the 2016 edition. I'll edit the next chapter soon, but if you're here early enough, you might be able to catch the old version-if yo e. Don't worry, if you were here for the old one, Hades is no longer renamed George. (cue the cringe dance). See you next time! ~2018 Me**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Another revamped chapter~2018**

 **If anything seems to be 'racist' in this story...well, 1945. It pains me as well. Also, woot woot, end of WWII in this time! ~ceeeeelebrate good times coME ON~ And a last note: Frank's grandmother speaking broken English is a thing in this chapter, and future chapters. It sounds stereotypical, but imagine being Chinese and hastily learning as much English as you can before hopping over to America. Okay, I'm done!**

BANG. BANG, BANG!

Hazel shot up and out of bed. She could here her mother in the kitchen. "Momma, everything alright?"

"Yes, Hazel, I just dropped a pot."

Hazel exhaled. For a moment, the loud noise had reminded her of gunshots-something no one wanted to hear only about three months after the end of World War II.

There came a sudden coughing from the bed opposite of Hazel's.

"Bianca? You okay, Bee?"

 _Cough, cough._ Hazel bit her lip. If she got stuck home today, taking care of a little girl...no. If she was sick, Momma would watch her. Hazel nodded her head sternly to no one in particular.

Hazel sighed and pulled a dark red dress out of the closet. She inspected it for cleanliness, disappointed to find a small, reddish stain in one corner. Bianca must have been playing with her clothes and Momma's lipstick again. She sighed.

"Bianca Levesque, did you-" But Bianca was gone, probably in the kitchen to get breakfast, the little creature. Hazel walked over to her brother's bedroom door. "Nico! Get up, you gotta get to work!"

Nico banged open the door, his black hair messy and everywhere, as always. Hazel always had to remind herself that he and Bianca were adopted-they were so much like family to her.

"Why can't I just have a _single_ day off?" he pleaded in his Italian accent. " _You_ get days off."

"Because I'm a thriving young lady who needs rest, an' you're an Italian immigrant with a low salary, that's why."

"No need to remind me that my life is terrible, sister. And _you_ , a lady? Never heard in the same sentence!"

" _You_!" Hazel chased him out of the room.

"."

Hazel lightly knocked on the oak door of the Zhang house. It was nice, large and made of rusty-red bricks. She saw a crackling fireplace through the window, with deep ruby-color wallpaper and overstuffed couches, and some odd Chinese symbols on the walls in frames and whatnot.

" _Fi Zhang! Young lady at door! You answer, now!"_ Hazel heard a woman shout. Frank came running to the door, his hair wet and wearing a wrinkled evening suit.

"I apologize for how messy I look, I was late home from work. It was a busy day. You look lovely, Miss Hazel...?

"Levesque. Hazel Levesque. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you my last name!" _How foolish of me_ , she thought to herself, her face flushing crimson beneath the pinkish tint from the cold. It was good her mother wasn't here to scold her on properness.

"Come in. My grandmother made the dinner, I take no credit!"

He took Hazel's coat and hung it on the shiny wood coat rack. Hazel looked at the mantel, where a large, fancy clock was placed. It was six o'clock, and Momma wanted her home by eight...she would have to remember. She could see herself getting easily caught up and distracted by this lovely, big house! And the handsome, young man escorting her through it, of course.

He seated her at the cedar wood table, where there was a large, roast chicken, a bowl of creamy-looking soup, and a bowl of rice. The plates were fancy; white porcelain covered with small, blue flowers.

"My grandmother insists that a bowl of rice be served with every meal," Frank informed her, and then chuckled as his grandmother, seated at the head of the table, said something in Chinese, "She also insists that you try it!"

Hazel smiled and took a bit of everything, hoping not to look as though she always ate a lot. Usually, her meal consisted of some limp pasta and a vegetable. This was new, and refreshing to try!

"This meal is lovely, Mrs. Zhang," Hazel complimented.

"Is all to please kind young lady Fi has brought. Fi has been good."

Hazel looked sideways at Frank. "Fi?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, my Chinese name, Fi Zhang. I chose Frank for my English name."

Hazel nodded. Her father had changed his name, too, from Francisco to George. She looked at the clock. Seven-thirty already!

After the meal was finished, Frank brought her to the living room. "So, Miss Hazel, I do not know much of you. Tell me about yourself."

Hazel brushed a loose strand of curly hair behind her ear, and smoothed out the satiny green dress her mother had lent her. "Well, when I was seven, my Momma and my Papa adopted my siblings, Nico and Bianca, from an orphanage in Italy. We used to live in Venice, you see. My Papa is a missionary, and he's actually coming home from a trip tomorrow morning. When I was ten, we took a boat to Ellis Island. We were almost allowed to go to the mainland, but then Nico got real sick, and we were almost sent back to Italy...we finally got to go through, and came here, to New York. Nico works at a factory, and as you know, I work for Madame McLean. My Momma does some odd jobs, mainly sewing and such. But what about you?"

Frank smiled awkwardly. "Well, I am an immigrant from China, as you could probably tell. In the beginning, only I was supposed to go ahead, with my father. But then, my father sadly passed away. My grandmother wanted to leave immediately, but my mother had things to settle that her husband hadn't done. So, she stayed behind, to sell our home and settle things. She will be here by next year, we hope. And we are well off here, because I was made to bring a great deal of money with me, because my mother did not know what things cost. Also, a kind American family here was able to help us start our new lives here. So, my grandmother bought this house from them for only a small amount of money, and the other family moved to their second house in New Jersey. I work at a shop, selling shoes and mending them."

Hazel nodded, and then looked at the clock. Seven forty-five! "I gotta go soon."

"First, have some hot chocolate. My grandmother makes the best."

Hazel accepted a mug-it really _was_ delicious-and stared at the fireplace. She absolutely loved it here, but she had to hurry and get home soon. Just then, the wind started howling, and heavy snowflakes began to fall from the sky, bringing with them the air of concern that quickly passed into her mind.

"Oh, it's storming now," noticed Frank.

"Yeah...I hope it ends soon."

Frank looked at her oddly. "Am I that terrible of a host?"

Hazel stood up quickly. "Oh, no, no! It's been the best visit of my life! It's just-I really, I can't stay. Sorry."

He laughed. "I am only joking, Miss Hazel." He glanced out the window again, his eyes clouding with worry. "Please, it's so cold, and look at the storm! You could stay a while longer and wait it out."

"But my Momma, she's going to be worried 'bout me!"

Frank stepped closer, and brushed Hazel's hair out of her face. "You do look lovely tonight."

"Th-thank you, but I gotta go." Hazel grabbed her coat and hat, starting for the door.

"What's your hurry?"

"Well, I told you, I-" She paused. She was sixteen, she didn't have to listen to her mother. "I suppose, I could stay for a bit longer."

Frank poured her another mug of hot chocolate. "There's some records over there, you can choose one you like."

Hazel smiled at him and went over to the little shelf of records. Christmas records, Frank Sinatra, and some more she didn't know well. She chose Frank Sinatra, and placed it on the player.

Then she was in his arms, swaying back, and forth. She was really starting to like Frank, and she wouldn't doubt it, but the clock was ticking to eight fifteen…

"I should really go..."

"Why?"

"But I won't."

"Lovely. This song is fitting..."

"Yeah..."

Frank spun her around. "I've been thinking, would you like to come again sometime? Say, in a couple of days?"

"Gee, I-yes, I'd like that." She spun back into him. "I'd love that!"

Eventually, they fell, laughing, back onto the couch. She rested her head on Frank's shoulder, feeling as though she'd known him a thousand years…

And she fell asleep.

"."

At seven in the morning, Hazel shot up. "Oh no, no, no! Frank! I gotta go, I'm so sorry!"

Frank shot up, too. "No, we fell asleep! Hazel, get home. I am so sorry, honestly."

Hazel didn't disagree with that. She grabbed her coat and hat, pulled them on, and ran out of the door-running into her mother as she rushed through.

"Hazel Marie Levesque!"

 **A/N: ~Fin~ for now.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Wow! New chappie! I honestly feel so productive. I've updated a fanfic on another couple sites, and I updated another fanfic I have on here, and now...this! :D**

Hazel sat curled up in her room, sitting near the window. It was cold, sure, but it was always cold, even if the window wasn't open and blowing in dusts of snow. She shouldn't have had the window open in the first place, what with Bianca being sick and all now, but it was starting to feel heavy and dark in the room. The little oil lamp had gone out in the corner-it was difficult to pay for electricity, and the Levesques tried to cut it out whenever they could, so every bedroom only used oil lamps or candles. The oil was running low, and Hazel wasn't allowed to leave the confines of her room, so she sought light in another way.

Bianca coughed heavily from the opposite corner of the room. Blankets were piled over her. Her skin, which had once been a nice shade of olive, had faded to paleness. She made a stark contrast with the dark wood of the floor. The pillow under her head was just recently fluffed, and her cocoa hair was scattered over the whiteness like silken ribbons.

"Cold," she whispered, almost inaudibly.

Hazel sighed softly and stood, pulling the window shutters in. It was dark once more. She went to her bedroom door and opened it a crack.

"Momma?" She called down the hall, a cinnamon curl falling into one eye.

She could hear her mother in the kitchen, and saw her shadow on the floor, but she didn't reply. Hazel sighed. She opened the door a bit more, and very quietly, she crept across the hall. It was only a couple steps, but the danger of being heard was _real_ -the floorboards creaked like it was their lives' duty. _Crick. Creak_. The Levesque girl cringed with every small noise. Thankfully, it couldn't be heard over the sound of her mother in the kitchen, busying herself with scrounging up enough food for a presentable dinner.

She ran a hand over her brother's door, making soft scratching noises against the wood. This was common enough. Hazel got in trouble, she was banished to her room, she needed something-Nico was there. That was their secret cue. Just a soft brush against the door.

The hinges creaked lightly as Nico opened the door. "Yes?" He asked in his soft accent.

"The lamp is out of oil," Hazel grimaced. "And the candle burned down.

"One moment." Nico disappeared, and then arrived again with one of his own two lamps. "How is Bianca?"

"I... _think_ she's okay."

"Very reassuring," her brother deadpanned. "Hurry back, before Mama catches you."

"Alright, alright," Hazel giggled and she took the offered lamp. She leaned through the opening of the door to plant a soft kiss on Nico's cheek, before hurrying to her room again and shutting her own door as quietly as possible.

"Bee?" She murmured quietly, holding the lamp and kneeling down next to Bianca's bed. No sound was issued. The child was asleep.

Hazel set the lamp on the desk. Suddenly, a sharp sound of the shutters opening shocked her into the present. She whipped around, and came face to face with…

"Frank!" She yelped.

"Shh, shh!" He said frantically, glancing over at Bianca. "I am sorry. It is just-I went to the bar, and when I spoke to Ms. McLean, she said that you wouldn't be at work today. She wouldn't say why. I was worried...are you ill? Was it too cold?"

Hazel shook her head. "No, no, you're fine! It's my fault...Mama, she was mad, to say the least. About us, you know. But it's not your fault! That's all on me…"

Frank gave her a half-smile of pity. "Well, I am sorry, regardless. But...I know how I can repay you."

Hazel raised an eyebrow, hesitant. "And how's that, Mr. Zhang?"

He grinned, now. He was blushing, it seemed-from the wind or something else, Hazel didn't know. "Climb out the window and follow me, Ms. Levesque, and you'll see."

Hazel laughed and stepped towards her closet. She took out her nicest jacket-a dark red, made of thick cloth, with only a couple ragged edges-and wrapped it around herself. She took another few steps to the window. Suddenly, the door opened, and Nico was standing there.

"Hazel," He said warningly, "Where are you going?" He looked at Frank, who was still outside the window, frozen in awkwardness. "Is that-"

"Shh!" Hazel yelped. "Nico, _please_ keep quiet about this…"

"Hazel, it's for your safety. You can't go around climbing out of windows with strangers-"

"Frank is _not_ a stranger! Nico, if you tell Momma, I'll tell her what I saw you doin' with-"

Nico's eyes widened, and he cut her off quickly. "Don't. You _wouldn't_."

Hazel bit her lip. "No...I wouldn't. But...keep a secret?"

Finally, her brother nodded with a sigh. "I'll keep it a secret. Just be careful, Hazel."

Frank glanced around, his face saying ' _Hello, still here, not a bad person._ ' Hazel gave him a pitying look as Nico exited quietly.

"I'm sorry about that," She half-giggled, "Nico's just protective. You're a real nice guy, Frank."

Frank blushed further. "Thank you. A-and you are a lovely girl, Hazel."

Hazel grinned, her cheeks tinting pink. She took his hands as he helped her climb out of the window. She sighed in relief as her shoes hit the snow with a satisfying crunch. Frank smiled at her again, and led her away.

"Where are we headed to?" Hazel queried.

"How does...the park sound?"

The curly-haired girl nodded. "That sounds lovely. Lead the way!" Hazel couldn't help but feel a little guilty, but really, it was her mother's fault for wrongly punishing her. She could only hope that Marie, her mother, didn't tell Hazel's father...that was where things could get complicated.

For now, she was with Frank, her heart beating in tiny flutters of joy as he led her towards the snowy main city.

 **A/N: I feel like this chapter isn't up to my usual par. Sorry.**


End file.
